lots of family had travelled miles
for our "Christmas in September"
an event which now brings comfort
whenever we remember

we had a chef, and spit-roast
who cooked and served everything
he cleaned and took it all away
our only chore ... relaxing

our granma was delighted
she got to speak with everyone
such a joy when we're recalling
that she got to have such fun

therese mitchell '08

(sorry just a little cheat .. lol)]]>Prompted PiecesFri, 04 Jan 2019 11:14:41 +1100A Chrstmas Puding Tragic https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/a-chrstmas-puding-tragic
https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/a-chrstmas-puding-tragic
You can have your ham or turkey – even seafood if you wish;
Christmas pudding still remains, my all time favoured Festive dish.
Homemade many months before to guarantee it’s at its best,
then you serve it up with ice-cream, and it’s sure to pass the test.

Gone now are the good old days, when silver coins were found then too,
but these days it all has changed now, from the Christmas I once knew.
I remember still those Christmas days when I was just a boy;
all our family would gather there – and life was full of joy!

A wooden car made by my Dad lay wrapped under the tree
No other kid in the universe was luckier than me
A full roast chicken for Xmas lunch, and a most amazing sweet
I’ve no idea the sacrifice that provided that special treat

I thought to keep those days alive when grandkids came along
But it seems that Hungry Jacks is where kids think they belong
And the handmade fire engine all red and shiny chrome
Was tossed aside completely for a brand new mobile phone]]>Prompted PiecesMon, 03 Dec 2018 20:29:33 +1100THE BELLS OF CHRISTMAS. (Prompts 26/11/2018 to 15/12/2018)https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/the-bells-of-christmas-prompts-26-11-2018-to-15-12-2018
https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/the-bells-of-christmas-prompts-26-11-2018-to-15-12-2018
Festive seasons do come and go,
In summer heat, or winter snow.
But peals of Christmas Bells this year,
won’t be heard by every ear.

For children in war-stricken zones,
may not be subject to their tones.
Yet bells ring out the sound of peace,
In longing hope for war to cease.

To see Christmas through a child’s eyes,
a green decked tree – gifts to surprise;
brings to every girl and boy,
that special feel of festive joy.

The adult Grinch that stops the show,
remains worldwide and will not go.
But may the sound of bells bring cheer,
to those who need it most this year.

But still I lived in hope those days as children always do,
that somehow soon a miracle, and we could start anew.
The loneliness from those sad times is clinging to me yet,
and though time heals the heart they say – some things you can’t forget.

But memories of happy times are never far away,
of days of joy that I once new to wake on Christmas day,
My brother and my sister here, and mum and dad there too,
what more now could a young boy wish, than see his dreams come true.

The cocky drew the reigns and faced toward a burning sky
while cussing the impending scene; "dust devils" waging by
commanding every ounce of barren earth within each thread
and magnifying through it all the sense all hope had fled.

He'd seen his share of drought since taking on the cattle run
along with Molly he'd defied the hard times, one by one
some forty years they'd forged to make a living from the land
but losing Molly...then the drought-what more could one man stand.

A crow disturbs his reverie while claiming of its prize
a rotting carcass, torn and pecked, devoid of flesh and eyes
maurading, glossy carrion, triumphant in their claim
as cohorts gather in the wings to play the waiting game.

Another day, another beast, another silent tear
another prayer unanswered which is what had brought him here-
the dying stock, the barren soil, what was a man to do?
but bear the brunt as bushies do-the aussie way-true blue!!]]>Prompted PiecesSun, 18 Nov 2018 21:51:38 +1100Writers Prompts for week ending 21st November 2018 https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/writers-prompts-for-week-ending-21st-november-2018
https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/writers-prompts-for-week-ending-21st-november-2018
it breaks your heart to see livestock
stumble on like the "living dead"
through paddocks, now just dust and rock
a monotone landscape of 'red!'

the lands stripped bare of nourishment
with water now rarer than gold
hard to recall any time spent
out here, when the weather was cold!

dust devils merge into huge dust storms
as peoples farms 'blow by'
no rain follows when these are formed
it's enough to make a lesser man cry

this drought's dragged on for so many years
there are kids that have been born
when told of rain, over some beers
they must think they're having them on!

therese mitchell 2018]]>Prompted PiecesMon, 12 Nov 2018 18:56:43 +1100Heartbreakhttps://www.bushverse.com/discussions/heartbreak
https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/heartbreak
Dreaded drought had spread across land and stripped the country bare,
wreaking havoc as it went and bringing heartbreak everywhere.
Dusty Devils spiral daily trashing all that’s in their way,
adding to the starkness that confronts this country here each day.

Starving stock roam grassless paddock’s, but there’s nothing left to eat
and unless it rains here soon, then death is likely what they’ll meet.
Though the Bushies and the Battlers here have seen it all before;
still it doesn’t make it easier, to face a drought once more.

Oh for a mouthful of water,
To shrink this swollen tongue.
And cease this senseless slaughter,
That, from our ignorance begun.

I remember the call of the Curloo,
The twitter of the Finch and the Wren.
Those sounds are now very few,
Will any ever hear them again?

Dark rain clouds are no more.
Nor does spring produce the flowers.
Climate change will affect us all,
Even them in Ivory towers.

Though I pray to God in heaven,
Still the rain it never comes.
Just the shadows of the ravens,
Waiting to pick my bones.

Les Pick.]]>Prompted PiecesWed, 07 Nov 2018 00:19:56 +1100DESPERATELY WAITING. (Prompts to 21/11/2018.)https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/desperately-waiting-prompts-to-21-11-2018
https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/desperately-waiting-prompts-to-21-11-2018
The earth now is parched and cracked, and the days are long and hot,
and each farmer yearns for rain on their godforsaken spot.
Dust devils swirl and dance upon a bushies land stripped bare;
dying stock lay starving with farmers futures in despair.
This wretched drought is merciless, the tanks and troughs are dry,
the battlers spirits slowly strangled trying to get by.
But wait they must until they hear the drumming of the rain,
and somehow scrape a living through their agonizing strain.

the eerie silence of this outback campsite
looked so charming in the light of day
now has me jumping and edgy
fearing my end is just a heartbeat away

therese mitchell 10/'18]]>Prompted PiecesThu, 25 Oct 2018 17:21:32 +1100When Time Runs Outhttps://www.bushverse.com/discussions/when-time-runs-out
https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/when-time-runs-out
The old house looked the saddest sight; its roof now partly gone,
yet memories still lingered here, though time has long moved on.
There seemed an eerie silence as I glanced in from outside,
as though old ghosts were waiting there for me to step inside.

If only I had thought things through those many years ago,
perhaps I could have saved myself from pain that I now know.
The craving for forgiveness, had tortured me for years,
but no one’s left who can forgive or even see my tears.

I stepped in through the doorway and the past leapt out at me,
as memories awakened now to how life used to be.
The house was damp and crumbling yet its spirit still survived,
and seemed to wrap around me, from the moment I arrived.

I’d left here long ago when searching for a better life,
mistakes were made along the way, and all I found was strife.
I’d turned my back on home back then and all my friends as well,
it’s too late now to make amends; there’s no one left to tell.

He knew the time had come to leave this city far behind,
the months of pounding pavements had played havoc with his mind.
A country boy seduced there by the bright lights booze and song,
was on the road to nowhere - here he never would belong.

He longed to leave it all behind and head back bush again,
out to the land he’d always loved, despite its lack of rain.
To hear the whisper of the breeze there echo through the trees,
and sit there by his campfire – live a lifestyle sure to please.

To catch up with his mates again, and visit Jill once more,
for this had been pure madness – Jill he always would adore.
He’d turned his back on all of this, and surely that’s a crime.
those dreams he long had cherished could by now be lost in time.

They only have the breeders now that’s all that they could keep
the rest have all been trucked away for sale.
It’s better to get something than to watch them fade and die
there’s no feed left and hay is now Fifty bucks a bale.

His mind now drifts and wanders back to the very early days
when his father passed and handed him the farm.
His wife and he gazed hand in hand upon this land they loved
lush valleys and green hillsides filled with charm.

They thought the kids might carry on and stay upon the land
but the cities bustle and bright lights had stole their heart.
The dreams they shared were gone now merely echo’s in the wind
and the years of drought had torn their hopes apart.

The heavy load he carried would have broken lesser men
but he buckled down and stood against the strain.
His father always told him better times would always come
and they soon would hear the sound of falling rain.

Sometimes he really wondered if it all was worth the pain
but knew his melancholy mood would pass with time.
There were jobs that needed doing and there was no hired help
so he turned and started on the homeward climb.

his sense of humor's rather dry
he loves his practical jokes
like itching powder in t-shirts
and pepper spiking smokes

today he's thought of something new
to mess with his mate's head
a very rude awakening when
he tips ants in david's bed!

therese mitchell 6/9/18]]>Prompted PiecesThu, 06 Sep 2018 19:35:34 +1000Writers prompts from 5/09/2018 to 27/09/2018. https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/writers-prompts-from-5-09-2018-to-27-09-2018-1
https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/writers-prompts-from-5-09-2018-to-27-09-2018-1
it's only been four hundred years
the dust, it lays so thick
the princes eyes, they fill with tears
and wheezing makes him sick

a sleeping beauty she may be
easily roused with just one kiss
"alas!" he declares ... "it won't be me,"
"i'm gone, i've had enough of this!"

therese mitchell 6/9/18]]>Prompted PiecesThu, 06 Sep 2018 19:19:25 +1000Prompts for week ending May 22nd https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/prompts-for-week-ending-may-22nd
https://www.bushverse.com/discussions/prompts-for-week-ending-may-22nd
almost anytime of year
many reasons can be found
for turning lies into cheers

we pondered, on easter tales
way back when, just eight years old
by following, muddy trails
we'd discover eggs of gold

squeals of laughter and delight
from us all on easter morn
as they'd placed there in the night
eggs against our bedroom doors

laid them on our bedside mats
shut the door and pulled it through
we thought it magic, found like that
must've been fun for mum and dad to do!

memories keep coming, they hurt as she's not here
think of places that we've seen, and the thing's we've done
binna burra camping, twenty years of wintermoon
but it upsets me most, as i care for her young son